Rut
by Iwilo
Summary: I'wilo is feeling feisty. Rated M for language and sexual themes.
1. Chapter 1

Rut. I'wilo was itching for one. Well, maybe the term "throbbing" would be more accurate. His balls felt heavy, huge, and ready, and he wasn't in the mood to relieve them alone. Now, to find the lucky recipient…

Silvermoon city was a huge town, crowded with tall buildings, assorted shops and inns, and a bustling trade section. It could be described as chaotic, restless, assailing, raucous… I'wilo preferred to keep it short and sweet. If he were pressed to describe Silvermoon, he'd call it lovely. "Lahvleh", he would say. It was one of his favored words.

In Orgimmar, I'wilo stood out as a tall troll, taller than all but one he'd seen. He stood over the orcs, the main species that inhabited the city. And orcs weren't little guys by any stretch of the imagination. Here in Silvermoon, he towered over all of the slender, fragile-looking (to him) blood elves, he standing at an alarming eight-foot-plus. The women were as toys to him, pretty little dolls with pouting lips and bedroom eyes, if not for him than for their male counterparts. Despite the fact that he carried himself in a troll's typical hunched position, lowering himself even further when dealing directly with anyone who was shorter than him, he still stuck out like a sore thumb. Being a bit histrionic at times, he really didn't mind.

If his height didn't call attention, his self-assured saunter which featured long, swinging arms and a chin held high, alert eyes taking in everything with obvious intrigue and relish certainly did. Atop his head, he sported a proud mohawk. It was naturally bright white, but he had a penchant for dyeing it in bright hues. Today, he had left it in its naturally stunning white state. To further draw the eyes of strangers, he wore an open vest, black with green gems for buttons and indigo contrast stitching, which was completely open in the front and fluttered as his mohawk did whenever a breeze kicked up. The open vest revealed a broad, muscular chest that was dominated by a tattoo of a blue-black spider. It was uncertain whether the blood elves knew enough about trolls to question the tattoo, given the accelerated regenerative properties innate to his species, but the sight of the tattoo was enough to draw perplexed, even offended gazes. And that was fine by I'wilo.

With a propensity for the garish and shiny, I'wilo often wore decoration, and today was no different. His ears were each pierced and adorned with a row of glinting golden hoops. It was another habit hindered by his body's fast healing, but the upside was that he could regularly change the location and number of the piercings. And besides, a little pain was sometimes refreshing, in moderation. Around his neck he wore a leather cord, a single preserved crocolisk claw that had been molded to fit snugly about the multicolored gemstone bauble it clutched. All in all, it was a muted look for the strutting peacock of a troll.

The crowd parted for him and he cut through it like a shark, the shining mohawk rising above all. The good-humored troll kept a poker face as some of the elves nearly stumbled over himself in their rush to get out of the way. Here was a giant specimen of the primitive trolls they were grudgingly allied with. What could such a creature want with their gorgeous city? Was it not better suited for the desert or forest or wherever such creatures spent their days torturing animals and shrinking heads? Yet, here it was, in all its frightening "glory", strutting as if it owned the place as its large, bare, two-toed feet sullied the clean and sparkling roads of their clean and sparkling city. Some of the citizens moved out of the way while keeping their eyes pointedly on other things, allowing themselves to stare after it as it passed. Others openly gawked or sneered, brushing at their arms as if his presence had reached out and touched them and they needed to remove the taint that befouled their perfect, apricot skin.

Then there were the other looks. Women, dainty and gorgeous blood elf women, turned to watch the strangely graceful troll walk by, his deep set eyes sparkling, and his smile easy. Hell, even a few men stared in awe instead of hatred. Be it awe at the troll or awe at their own reaction was a complete mystery. A few of their faces, the color of peach-flesh, blushed to the color of peach skin as the troll's crimson gaze landed on them. The effect was quite becoming on their perfectly shaped little faces. The men, as well held their own allure. While I'wilo didn't consider himself to be "gay", he was more than open to experimentation and if he were to choose a pretty male and dominate him sexually, it wouldn't be the first or last time. He wasn't in the mood for that right now.

Ah, but whom to pick? And how to approach them? Despite the burn in his loins that tightened his gut, I'wilo wished to thoroughly enjoy his little tryst. Hmm.

Nothing caught his eye. Well, plenty caught his eye, but nothing drew his attention for long. He felt predatory. The ones he would take here were too easy, looking at him with big rabbit eyes. It would be like picking off a lamb in a pen. No challenge. He wanted to see someone flush, not only from excitement but maybe with a touch of fear, hesitation. I'wilo was the dominant type, after all. He playfully denied it at times. Girls seemed to enjoy that game. It was important to him that the one he bed enjoy themselves, not only for the sake of compliance, but because he was true to his motto; "Live, lahv, celebret life… Fah we meh wake ahp dead tamorrow." Everyone should enjoy themselves to the fullest, for there was already enough pain in this world.

Not that pain didn't serve a purpose. Pain was what made the enemy think twice about attacking the large troll. Pain was what reminded him he was alive, during those dark, naked and lost moments when he couldn't be sure. Those thankfully were rare. Pain let him know that he was decorating his chest, ears, sometimes his nipples. And I'wilo was no more averse to dealing out pain than he was to receiving it. The cries of pain as his arrow hit home served to remind him of who he was. A troll. A great hunter. Yes, pain definitely had its uses.

The troll shook his head. What a dark turn of thought. Today, this evening, was for celebration, love and lust. I'wilo looked around. Lost in reverie, he'd exited the city and now stood on the equally clean and sparkling path that led to the winding roads of the perpetually-springtime Eversong woods. Taking a deep breath, he sampled the flower-fragrant air around him and found it to be exquisite. Smiling contentedly, I'wilo made his way south toward a nearby pond that was fed by a tall but slender fall at the end of one of many clear, winding streams.

Everything here was green. It was a great contrast to the desert where he currently made his ever-changing nomadic camp. It was nearly the exact opposite of the snowy, frigid clime from which he hailed. There was another thought he pushed away, a bit roughly. No thoughts of Northrend tonight, thank you. Regret was for another day. Let painful memories creep in during dreams, quietly tucked away where they seemed to belong.

I'wilo's upper right lip lifted in silent parody of a dog-snarl as his smile changed, his long green ears twitching with interest. He stretched to his full height, rolling both shoulders in turn and then cracking his neck before lowering himself to his natural position. He would be crouching quite low soon. Best to stretch beforehand, avoiding discomfort and distraction later.

Willfully smoothing out his smile, unkinking the telltale curl of the lip and straightening the lines of concentration at the center of his heavy brow, I'wilo resumed his easygoing aspect and approached the shore of the crystal clear pond, eyes never leaving the object of his interest.

Kaylanna sat comfortably on the cool bank. The blood elf sat on a small rise, her feet pointing out over lower ground. She had braced both her black suede boots on a short, slightly soft log that was an inch-sunken in the softer earth before her. The day was rapidly cooling into night, and her slender arms stood out in gooseflesh. On her chest, she wore a snow-colored blouse, which was not sheer but just transparent enough that it glowed a bit blue as thin white fabrics sometimes do. She wore tight, black pants that were tucked into her calf-high boots. On her wrist she wore a single gold bangle, and on her ears a pair of little gold studs, both gifts from her grandmother.

There is an unnameable moment that slips in somewhere between afternoon and sunset, where colors take on a surreal edge, as if desperate to cling to the last vestiges of day. Everything is clear and sharp to the eye, though this magically seems to be a time where the eyes are drawn to other things, the eyes of a lover, a task at hand that must be finished before dark, the making of a late meal.

It was now this time and Kaylanna found she was in one of those rare moments where she could enjoy just being and seeing, enjoying the dreamlike affect the land took on. She was surrounded by the same grassy hills, trees, and wildlife as she'd been for the past few hours. Still, something was indescribably different. The day seemed to… to hesitate. Her fishing bobber sat still upon the water. It hadn't moved but for the occasional breeze in the past several minutes, and the fish were sure to be bedding down. Sighing wistfully, the dainty little female reeled in her line, secured the hook in one of the many eyes that served to guide said line, and placed the fishing pole aside. There was no need to remove any bait, as the fish had pilfered it as she daydreamed. Her hand wandered back to her knee, to mimic the other as she tossed her loose, golden hair aside and looked up at the sky through the emerald foliage.

Kaylanna looked down at the water. A gasp escaped her throat, whether it was in response to the deep voice that sounded behind her, or the towering, tusked reflection that she viewed behind her own, she couldn't say. Both seemed to happen at precisely the same moment. Smoothing out her pant legs, though they needed no smoothing, and doing her best to replace her frightened look with one neutral and disinterested, she turned to look over her shoulder. The speaker was even taller than the portrayal upon the glassy water surface. Her eyes went wide again and she swallowed before responding. "I… What? I'm sorry but I didn't catch what you said." Did her voice tremble? It was from the cold, surely. She rubbed her arms briskly before standing – attempting to stand, really. The deceptively sunken-looking log began to roll toward the water and she squeaked in alarm as she felt her legs being dragged with its surface.

Just when it appeared that her already dirty pants were going to be joining the sleeping fish, a hand slid beneath her right arm, followed by one under her left. The hands caught her, legs kicking atop the troublesome log for purchase, and locked over her chest. Before she could make any sound of protest, though a very unflattering and mortifyingly guttural sound that could only be described as stupid and clumsy escaped her, she was lifted clean off the earth and back away from the pond. Her savior (assailant?) deposited her safely on the grass, several feet from the water.

With her hands on her hips, the slender and feminine blood elf tilted her head back to look at the troll, who had respectfully backed away several paces. As she watched, he lowered himself into a crouch, staying on the balls of his feet as he returned her gaze, lips curved up in a friendly smile. His eyes sparkled with laughter. Embarrassed, indignant, Kaylanna lashed out needlessly. "Well if you hadn't startled me, I'd not have…" What was she doing? She started over, "I'm sorry," she sagged a bit, "Thank you. For sav- helping me."

Completely unfazed by the earlier remark, the troll shrugged his broad shoulders and shook his head slowly, still smiling, "Ah'd not be happy ta let a lahvleh flowah fall into da mahd." The troll tilted his head as he stayed in a crouch, his elbows resting on large knees, hands dangling between his long legs. Kaylanna blinked at the accent. She'd heard trolls speak before, but… She had to go over his words in her mind twice before she could respond. And when she did, to her horror, she felt her face become a bit flushed. "I uh… hardly a flower… um… thank… thank you?" She sounded like an idiot and she wished she _could_ fall into the mud and sink out of view. Better to die from a dirt-filled nose than to wither slowly from humiliation.

The troll unfolded himself, still keeping hunched low as he stepped forward and offered one two-fingered hand. Tense all over and very aware that she was touching a troll for the first time ever, Kaylanna put her own hand in his, looking at the difference in size nervously. That hand could easily crush hers between the thumb and only one of the two thick fingers. The big greenish hand did nothing of the sort, instead gently accepting hers with a brief squeeze from the thumb as the deep voice said, "I'wilo. Oah Wil, if ya prefah."

"Good. Good to uh. Good to meet you, I'wilo." The nickname "wheel" sounded strange to her, so she kept with his proper name.

"Ahnd lahvleh ta meet ya, Dahlin. Whaht ya go by? Oah does Dahlin suit ya?"

She looked into the smiling face and lowered her own gaze, blushing furiously. "Kaylanna. Kay, for short."

"Kaylanna. Gahgeous. Ahnd I do tink I'll go wit Keh, foah feah o' manglin' sahch a pretteh name in mah haste." He winked at her, and she caught it before looking down again. "Ahnd so, Kaylanna. How da deh beh treatin' ya?"

How da deh… ? Oh! "Fine, thank you. And yourself?"

Retracting her hand, she realized she'd been holding his as she stared down at his feet. Kaylanna forced her eyes to meet his; afraid he'd think she was staring at the bizarre toes, or lack thereof. The troll's smile broadened, surprisingly friendly between those sharp, curved tusks. "Oh Ah'd seh it beh goin' verrah well." I'wilo looked around, "Cleah sky. Stahs gonna beh shinin' soon. A good night fah celebratin', eh?"

The tiny chorus frogs had crept from beneath their leafy burrows and wrapped their little bodies around blades of grass at the water's edge. Now they began their song, hesitantly at first but then more boldly, their chirping trill filling the silence. Kaylanna wished she felt so bold. This creature, I'wilo, as friendly as he was, was quite unnerving. He was so different, strange, and yet he didn't seem to be aware of it at all. The way he looked at her with unabashed curiosity and amusement made her feel as though she were the alien one. She'd grown up here, witnessed the fall of her proud city to the evil of the scourge, and now was present for its slow rebirth. If anyone belonged here, it was her. So why did she feel like an intruder, no, an oddity, as she stood just beyond the gates of her home?

"I was fishing," she stated lamely, forcing herself not to say "um" anymore.

"Ahnd ya beh catchin' lots o' dem fishehs, Keh?"

"Well, no. Yes! But I let them go. It was just for sport," her fingers clenched and unclenched over her upper arms, though she couldn't recall crossing them. What did this I'wilo want from her? Why did half her mind scream the old saying for children, "Stranger danger!" while the other half was- was what? Intrigued? Curious as to his motives? It couldn't be anything good, could it? At least there were the guards just beyond the gates.

"Ah daht's verrah big o' ya. Given dem deh reprieve like dat. Ah'm shuh deh apprecieht dat. So tell meh, Keh, whaht ya got planned foah da night?"

Okay. Alright. Now she had to put her foot down. Time to be bold, "What did you have in mind?" Oh damn it! Not THAT bold!

"Oh littel o' dis, littel o' dat," I'wilo thought. What he said was, "Ah wahs tinkin' o' takin' a walk trough da forahst. Enjoyin' da sights ahnd sounds. Mehbeh a bottle o' wine. Is a good night foah wine, walkin', enjoyin' good companeh."

Shifting her right food forward nervously, she rested her weight on it and gave a slight shrug. "Well, it's cold. I should really get back and put on something a little heavier."

The troll nodded, "Good. Den we cahn walk."

Kaylanna's jaw dropped, though the troll didn't notice or didn't care. She gathered her things silently and gave him a nod, hoping she looked as self-assured as she didn't feel. What the hell was she doing? But what could go wrong, in the middle of the city? She would get herself a cloak and let the troll follow her, and during the walk she'd figure out a way to ditch him. Did she want to ditch him? It would be a hell of a story for her friends, for certain. She could just imagine their horrified looks, upon hearing that a troll offered to walk her home and she'd accepted! My, but he was big. It would be like walking a two-ton, though notably slimmer, elekk through the city. Her spirits lifted at the thought of making such a scene, while at the same time the idea made her more self-conscious. The hell with it. At least it was more interesting than what she'd had planned, which was nothing at all.

Closing her gaping mouth, Kay nodded and led the way. She was almost afraid the troll would grasp her hand as she cringed by him, but he remained lowered until she passed. As they passed through the gates, the guards kept their eyes to themselves, staring stoically and with marked indifference into the crowd, though Kay was positively certain she could feel their eyes on her back. I'wilo walked beside and slightly behind her, his chummy smile never faltering though they did receive some stares.

Her apartment was near the front of the city and in no time they stood at the door, she feeling very small though the troll kept to the bottom of the steps. Now was the moment. Crap, she hadn't thought of anything. Well, she could always laugh at him and tell him he was pathetic, turning him away to make him feel stupid as he left the city. How incredibly blood elf. How incredibly not like her. Sighing inwardly, she gave I'wilo a quick smile and held up a finger. "I'll uh," she fairly bristled at hearing herself make that mindless sound again, "… be just a moment."

Hurrying through the translucent violet curtain that served as a door, she quickly made her way down the front hall and veered for her room. Yanking off her muddy boots and pants, she cringed as she noted the big brown circular mud prints on the seat. Ugh. Standing in her panties and insufficient blouse, Kaylanna grabbed the first thing she saw out of her closet.

Moments later, having donned a pair of clean violet-gray pants and a long-sleeved matching shirt with a gold-embroidered, floral collar that dipped a bit low, she pulled her long jet cloak around her and fastened the shining emerald button at her throat. Her hair flew around her as she turned her head this way and that looking for… What, a weapon? Shaking her head and making an exasperated sound, she grabbed a hairbrush and yanked it through her shining golden tresses before tying it them back in a high ponytail. If she'd had a door she'd lock it. Then she'd climb out the back window, if she had one of those. Since she didn't, she shuffled unhappily back toward the doorway.

I'wilo stood as she'd left him, knee bent as one foot rested on the stairs, the other planted on the street. One arm rested across his knee. The other tapped absently at the tip of a pointed tusk. The muscles in his forearm tensed and relaxed as he tapped and watched her. Without thinking, Kaylanna let her eyes wander briefly over the troll. He was lean but well-muscled, well-proportioned (for a troll) despite his formidable height. The spider tattooed across his chest which had first struck her as frightening, now seemed right at home on the bizarre male. Her eyes traced his prominent collarbone and the flexing tendons at the neck to the strong jaw line and well-defined chin. His nose was long and hooked sharply but that wasn't bad either. It suited him. Then their eyes met and she turned her attention to her boots, which were similar to the others she'd been wearing but more of a charcoal gray color.

"Ya didn't hahve ta change foah lowleh 'Wil, m'deah," came his deep but gentle voice. Kaylanna's hands clenched feebly at the inside of her cloak, where she'd hidden them like a turtle retracting its limbs in surprise. "I was muddy," came her quiet reply. "O' coahs. Ah flattah mahself, tinkin'a pretteh blood elf guhl like yah would get all dress ahp foah a big nahsty troll like Wil." Kayla looked up, worried that she'd offended him, but he was still smiling. He had nice lips. They were full and looked soft. What the hell was she thinking? He was of a completely separate race from her. The only thing they had in common was the number and approximate placement of limbs and even the digits at the ends of the arms were in threes instead of fives. His feet had only two toes! He was GREEN! She'd be just as well inspecting the lips of a cow. Wait, no that would be a tauren. Well, she'd be just as well inspecting the lips of a monster! He didn't act like a monster. Kaylanna's mind whirled.

"I didn't mean it like that," she said meekly, her face coloring again. She must have looked like she was part apple. "Ya shuh?" She could hear the laughter in his voice as she stomped a foot and retorted, "Maybe and maybe not!" Kaylanna realized how childish she was acting, but she couldn't stop herself. It was the closest to un-shy that she could muster, though it made her feel quite pathetic.

I'wilo ran a tongue along the inside of his cheek, nodded and tilted his head. "Shall we, den?" Kay obediently left her doorway, making her way down the stairs. The weight of the pair of daggers that hung from her black leather belt, concealed beneath her cloak, was of little comfort. The troll started back the way they'd come. Kaylanna followed mutely.

I'wilo was pleased. He'd found just what he was looking for. He could almost hear the blood elf's inner argument. He was, after all, a big scary troll. Yet still she followed, as he had never doubted she would, and he knew that she felt a thrill of excitement, though she may still deny it to herself. As much as his body was intent on one thing, his mind was more intrigued by another, more subtle intercourse of sorts. The scared little elf would look at trolls quite differently after tonight. Of that he was certain.

In the Eversong woods once again, the two veered off the path onto a small road that wound its way through the now-dark forest. The moon's full glow, accompanied by thousands of stars, illuminated their path. Mimicking the star glow closer to earth, fireflies blinked all around the pair. I'wilo fell back gradually, so that they stood side-by-side. He was keeping himself held quite low, still, and knew he couldn't keep it up much longer before his back began to ache.

Kaylanna kept her eyes on the road ahead, her heart fluttering in her chest like a moth, beating its wings against its imprisoning walls blindly. She should say something, she knew. She had no clue what, though. I'wilo had kept quiet as well, though she knew that he wasn't nervous as she was.

"Whaht a nice spot," he said from several yards back. He spoke quietly but his deep voice carried. Licking her lips and blinking several times before turning around, Kaylanna spun and headed back to where the troll had stopped. He was reaching into the bag he'd had slung over his shoulder and her hands instinctively flew beneath her cloak, to rest on the hilt of each dagger.

I'wilo had to chuckle as he saw her hands disappear, having noted the concealed weapons when she'd first exited the apartment. He shook his head, laughing quietly as he drew forth a long, dark bottle. She visibly relaxed and he laughed again as she approached, trying not to appear as cautious as she obviously felt.

"What's so funny?" the elf frowned. "Ah ahpologize," I'wilo smiled, "Is onleh dat Ah feel sahch joy at hahvin' companeh, good wine, on such a lahvleh evenin'"

Kaylanna wasn't convinced that was precisely it, but she accepted his explanation as she looked at the bottle. "Ceah foah a drink?" I'wilo said through his teeth as he bit down on the cork and twisted it free. "I… sure," Kay responded cautiously. With a nod, I'wilo reached up and plucked the cork from between his very even white teeth. He ran it beneath his large nose and inhaled deeply before holding it out toward her. Kay sniffed the cork daintily and gave a polite nod. "It's nice." I'wilo smiled and took a swig before offering her the bottle. With a little hesitation – No glasses? – she accepted the bottle and took a sip. It was good. She took another.

A half a bottle of wine later, the two were sitting on a grassy knoll that was separated from the road by some bushes and a few yards of clearing. While I'wilo could easily have drunk the entire bottle and another two, he abstained from draining the bottle, wanting to let the girl enjoy the drink.

They were laughing, and she couldn't remember why but she just kept giggling, covering her mouth when the sounds threatened to become guffaws. It may not have been a great idea to drink so much wine on an empty stomach, but somehow she didn't care all that much. Despite her misgivings about trolls, this one seemed very friendly. He seemed polite, even. His name was nice, too. I'wilo. "Eeee Weee Looooow," she drawled, leaning back on her elbows to look at the sky. She'd taken off her cloak and spread it on the grass beneath her. The chill night seemed to have warmed, or perhaps it was the drink that warmed her or the light from the many fireflies. "Eeee Weee Loooooow," she said again, this time nearly singing it. I'wilo laughed quietly beside her and she swung her head in his direction, her ponytail whipping her neck.

"Dat's mah nehm, dahlin'," he replied softly, smiling still. She wondered if her new friend ever frowned. Lowering himself onto one elbow, he propped his head on his hand as he rolled onto his side to face her. He was cute, for a troll. His scent drifted to her and filled her head, causing her belly to flip and flutter very pleasantly. He smelled masculine, musky the way cologne always tried-and failed-to be, with a touch of something else. Sandalwood, perhaps? Whatever it was, it was very nice.

How could she have been nervous before? What a friendly guy he was. What a handsome, friendly troll. His skin looked smooth. She thought she should touch it. But first, another swig of that yummy yum-yum wine. Where was that wine, anyway? Oh, the bottle was in her hand. With a girlish giggle, Kaylanna lifted the bottle to her lips and tilted it back, swallowing several times.

I'wilo watched the delectable little elf's pale throat work to suck down a bit too much wine. So focused was he on Kay, that he neglected to stop his lip from lifting as his smile broadened. He was a bit self-conscious of that snarl. But in her present state, Kaylanna didn't mind at all. He quirked a brow as she rolled onto her hands and knees and kitty-crawled in his direction. Licking his lips, he watched her intently without moving to or away from her clumsy-cute and undeniably sexy advance.

The night air was cool and comfortable, both for the inebriated blood elf and the troll, who was designed for much colder climes than his Horde-allied Darkspear counterparts. Were the locals more receptive to his kind, I'wilo might have chosen to live in the forest, rather than across the sea in Durotar. As it was, he was lucky to be able to travel these woods and visit the city, given the less-than-agreeable status the Darkspear (which I'wilo professed to be, more out of omission than flat-out lies) had with the parochial citizens.

Be that as it may, he was here now and enjoying the cool air on his exposed chest, the way the soft springy grass molded itself around his heavy form… And this little drunken vixen of an elf that was now crawling toward him. And now she was touching him. Tiny, soft hands reached out to caress his chest, tentatively at first. I'wilo couldn't help but chuckle at the childlike way her glowing eyes widened at the contact. She truly was adorable. Petite fingers with nails filed into smooth curves that tickled at his flesh, ran over his chest delicately. So soft was her touch that he could feel the soft, velvety, near-invisible fur that covered most of his body tickling beneath her skin as she let her hand trail down his belly, causing the muscles there to clench from the sensation. The irresistible female let her fingers pause for a maddening moment at the edge of his belt, before slowing trailing them back up and further exploring his chest.

He wanted to take her then, flip her over and claim her before turning her again so that he could feel the heat of her breath on his face, her sounds of appreciation ringing loud in his ears as he buried as much of him as he could fit inside of her hot little body. Instead, he licked his lips and reached out to stroke her silken ponytail. I'wilo had become well-versed in the ways of love-making; enough to write several volumes on the subject. He knew that his "talents" reduced the ministrations of many a self-proclaimed "playboy" to nothing more than clumsy adolescent groping, by comparison. This he'd been told my many a breathless, flush-faced beauty. He also knew that the waiting and yearning was, in itself, one of the best parts. That he had figured out on his own.

Despite his stoicism, his breath hissed in through his teeth and escaped as a low groan as her lazily trailing fingers swirled around one of his sensitive nipples and came to rest on the small, hard tip. She made a pleased cooing sound at the reaction and continued to touch him there, till it was nearly too much to bear without grabbing her and pulling her to him. Just as the near-crazed (though one wouldn't think it by seeing his demeanor) troll was about to say 'fuck it' and snatch her into his arms, the teasing fingers traveled further up his chest to shove aside the open vest there insistently.

I'wilo slowly acquiesced, slipping his arms out of the holes before settling back to his side and making a slight sweeping gesture with his hand, as if to say, "There it is. All yours" He delighted in her attentions as she let her fingers run beneath his collarbone, up over one shoulder and then tickle its way up his neck, tracing his jaw-line before continuing up one long ear. His eyes rolled a bit then, blinking rapidly for a split second as both toes on his right foot flexed and relaxed.

With a naughty little laugh, Kaylanna reached back to pull the leather thong from her hair, letting her shining tresses fall and fan sideways across her neck and shoulder, hanging past it and brushing at the ground. I'wilo reached out to stroke her hair as she explored his chest. His skin was so smooth and his body so hard and she let her hands test his muscles with the occasional little squeeze. Sighing passionately, she reached out to feel one of his long, powerful arms. The muscles there felt right in her hand and she wanted those arms around her, shielding her protectively as she hid her face in that broad, warm chest.

"Ah guhl, bah meh Loa ya feel so nice," I'wilo groaned as he finally allowed himself to move closer, sniffing at her neck and enjoying the perfume there, both the flowery scent she wore and the more intriguing natural scent of her. Maneuvering his tusks out of the way, and silently thanking all his gods that he'd filed them down recently, he sought out and captured the pointed tip of one pink ear between his lips, nibbling and then sucking on it as he grabbed a handful of silky hair, bringing it to his nose and inhaling deeply. The feel and scent of her hair was too nice and he felt his pants becoming uncomfortably tight.

Kaylanna gasped at the feel of his breath and his mouth on her, his hands. She let out a sound that was almost mournful in its need. "Take me, now. Fuck me, I'wilo," she whimpered…

"Take me, now. Fuck me, I'wilo," she had said. And the words were lovely, but when he went rigid it was in h wrong way. Wincing at the way her speech was slurred, he gave her another quick kiss on the ear, again rolling his eyes. A look of pained regret washed across his chiseled features, but he forced it away and when he gently disengaged himself from the close embrace, she beheld the same warm smile. Well… similar enough that in her drunken state she didn't notice the subtle differences, the lines between his eyes as his furrowed his brow slightly.

"Do it, fuck me," she begged, sitting up and crossing her arms to pull her shirt over her head. A strong but gentle pair of hands reached out to stop her. I'wilo had sat up and she now regarded him with a slightly reproachful look that he was certain would only look less happy in a few moments. He shook his head, tilting his head to one side as he took her hands in his own and lowered them.

Swaying a bit, until I'wilo helpfully steadied her with a hand on her shoulder, Kaylanna bit her lower lip and frowned. "What's wrong? Don't you want me?" She wasn't sure if she wanted to cry or punch him or reach out and grab him by the cock she could see outlined through his pants. Seeing the size of it, she wondered if she could even take much more than half of his length. Her eyes returned to his and she wasn't sure what she saw there.

"Whassron? Donchaa wanmeee?" Ok, she was definitely smashed. Fuck fuck fuck. Fuck his luck and fuck his aching, throbbing hard-on. With much effort, I'wilo shook his head again, more adamantly. Then he saw her eyes go completely round and he corrected himself, nodding furiously. "Whatcha shy now, Busster?" Her orcish sounded worse than his! Damnit. Damnit all to the nether and back and set it on fire and shove it the fuck up its own bleeding ass.

"O' coahs I want ya guhl. Ain't a dahm ting in dis whole wahld I can tink of dat I want moah reht about now… but ya be a bit too drunk foah meh ta take ya, Dahlin'."

Kaylanna was completely taken aback. "What? Isn't that was the damned wine was for? Give me a break. Something's wrong with me and you won't say it," And then she let out the dreaded sniffle.

"Oh no no no gahl, don't get ahpset. Ol' Wil ganna give ya da ting ya want… Latah. Not when ya be like dis." "But why?" she whined, grabbing both of his hands and squeezing them tightly, her nails digging into his flesh. She lifted his hands and he let her cover them in frantic kisses, her pleading, unfocused eyes searching his. He replied over the noisy sound of kisses, "Ah tink ya would feel it jahst fahn… Dat ain't whaht Ah be worried about." "Then what? What?" she sobbed, dropping his hands and placing hers on her cheeks and mooshing them so that her mouth became an oval. The way her face was would have been comical if the situation were different.

"When ya sobah, ya look at me wid da sehm interest ya lookin' now, but ya also be lookin' like ya seen sahmtin' scareh," he said gently. "I'm not scared of you," she sighed in dramatic exasperation. Her hands ran down her cheeks and slapped her thighs loudly. An errant lock of hair fell over her face and she blew at it unsuccessfully before batting it away. Now she was looking a bit pissed. "It's my choice and I want to fuck. Now."

I'wilo grunted, annoyed at himself for letting her get so drunk and annoyed at the fact that she was making this so hard when he was still so _hard_. "It's mah dick ahnd Ah'm tellin' ya no. Not now." He could feel his face tightening and was sure his smile was grotesquely forced in appearance. He also felt that he was a damned hero for maintaining any smile at all. Very rarely did anything get on his nerves, but as cute as she was, she was pushing it.

"Eeeet's MAH," she jabbed a thumb into her own chest as she mimicked him, "deek ond um tellin' ya yaysss!" Okay, that was cute, although he was sure she got the voice wrong. He had a deep voice, but he didn't have that idiotic tone she had inserted.

I'wilo tilted his head and cleared his throat, reaching out to stroke her flushed pink cheek, "Now Keh, Ah know ya be a little… disahp-" Her hand shot out to grab him, but her actions were a little too clumsy and she managed to jab a pair of fingers right into one very sensitive orb. "Oof!" he doubled over where he sat, a hand going to his nuts and then moving higher to clutch his gut, the other hand raised in a warding gesture. Gods, but that hurt. He gasped for breath, her continued babbling just a meaningless mosquito-whine in his ears.

Apparently his balls didn't think it was safe outside of his guts, and he wasn't sure he disagreed, still it was a blessed relief when they decided to find their way back out of his body. She was still screeching at him. "Enough!" he growled, a giant hand reaching out quickly to catch her by the wrist.

The troll's eyes were blazing, the lust that had previously made its home there now evicted and replaced by a dark, angry glare. His brow was deeply furrowed and deep lines had formed there, causing the bridge of his nose to wrinkle up. His lip had lifted in a snarl and his teeth looked very white and predatory in the moonlight. Somehow, the sexy male that she had wanted inside of her so badly had been replaced by a terrifying creature. A muscle beneath his eye twitched repeatedly as he stared at her.

Oh crap, now she was going to cry.

Closing in on itself like a withering flower, her little fist stopped struggling in his grasp. She took a deep breath and her bottom lip began to quiver. Lowering her head a bit, she sniffled once and then made a high-pitched whining noise that even she didn't understand.

Accepting her submissive whimper, I'wilo leaned forward to raise his tusks over her head, bumping the top of her head with his chin lightly. "Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch. Womahn don't be gettin' all sahd now. Ah ent mahd at ya," he crooned. He realized he still had her wrist in his grip and he guided her hand around him, releasing it as he embraced her.

The troll's moment of rage passed as if it hadn't been there, and now he was only a comfort, warm as he held her to him. She buried her face in his chest, still upset but not really remembering what she'd been so upset about. Kaylanna let out a contented little sigh and settled into the strong arms that held her so tenderly, enjoying the feeling as he stroked her hair. "Ya tiahd, right?" his deep and soothing voice reached her ears as it flowed over her pleasantly. When she opened her mouth to answer, a quiet yawn interrupted her speech. She accentuated it with a nod.

Allowing himself one last smell of her soft hair, I'wilo turned his head to seek out her cloak. Keeping her to his chest with one long arm, he reached out with the other to drag her cloak over. "Heah," he said as he gently maneuvered her little body. She weighed almost nothing to him. "Wil is tiahd too. We gonna tehk a nice nahp." "And after-?" "Yes, gahl. Ahnd aftah. Now leh down wit me, Keh."

Thankfully, all the fight had gone out of the little elf and she allowed him to move her petite body so that they may lay together, though not in the way he had earlier anticipated. With I'wilo on his back, and Kay nestled into his chest, he drew the cloak over her and listened as her breathing evened out and she fell asleep.

He swallowed and cleared his throat quietly so as not to disturb her, though she wasn't likely to wake if he tossed her into the pond at this point. Several thoughts battled for a place in the front of his mind. He had wanted her, certainly hadn't intended to reject her, but she was far too drunk. He had no intention of taking advantage of that fact. More importantly, he didn't want her waking up with any doubts. If she wanted him tomorrow, he would be more than happy to oblige. Her body on top of his was pleasant, but uncomfortable as well. Not physically, but to his mind. He had lay with many, many women but he'd never actually slept with one and he'd not had any intention of doing so, at least in the near future. He frowned, his face relaxing so that his lip lifted again.

Blinking up at the stars, other unnerving thoughts whirling in his mind, he let his eyes go unfocused and then close. Hopefully, she wouldn't get the wrong idea. Was it such a big deal, to lay here and let her sleep on him like a lover? On one hand, he hoped she wouldn't see it as such. On the other, he thought maybe he might feel… Well, he wasn't sure what but it wasn't good.

The last thought that crossed his mind was of nightmares. He prayed to his gods that he wouldn't have one of his bad dreams and wake up screaming with this girl to bear witness and become completely terrified of him. I'wilo hesitantly drifted off to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

It was an unseasonably warm day, given the naturally chilled clime of Zul'Drak. He'd just returned from the hunt and, as always he did not return empty-handed. Far from it, in fact. The Loa had seen fit to lend him their might; the catlike grace of Harkoa, the serpentine speed of Quetz'lun that aided him as he navigated the frozen forest, the strength and brute power of Rhunok, and the combined resolve of Akali and Mam'toth… Not to mention their hardiness, for he was easily the scrawniest of his people and was nearly as shocked as they when he returned with the largest kills… Most of them were shocked that he returned at all.

But he was blessed, and the Gods had seen fit to allow this gift to be bestowed upon him by the Loa, who were to the Gods as lowly I'wilo was to they. His place as the most successful hunter alive had earned him a grudging sort of respect from the other Drakkari. It was a respect that came in the form reprieve from being cannibalized or exiled. The Drakkari's strength lay in their fierceness and will to survive, not their compassion.

Where there are males, there is jealousy, particularly when said males are Drakkari trolls. I'wilo couldn't count on his fingers and toes how many times he'd been shoved around, beaten into the ground, or otherwise humiliated by the much studier-built males that vied for the attentions of their female counterparts. Not that he posed much a threat to them. He fairly bristled at the nickname "Little I'wilo", when anyone did bother to call him by a name besides "rabbit" or the dreaded "runt". While I'wilo was just as tall as, and often taller than his fellow tribesmen, he was painfully thin in comparison. No woman would ever want the troll that looked like a stunted tree.

No amount of eating could cure his problem. He gorged himself almost desperately at every hard-earned meal, usually taken as he dragged back the carcass of whatever beast he had managed to down, if he didn't want to subside on leftover bone and gristle. He drank deeply of their blood, but to no avail. He was well muscled, but unnaturally slim and there wasn't a thing he could do about it. Poor 'Wil was just built wrong.

The troll sat against a high stone wall that served a half a barrier for a gigantic stone-carven stair that led into one of many proud temples that he was silently made aware he was not fit to enter. Having recently turned seventeen, which made him an adult though he'd always be a boy or something less in the eyes of his people, I'wilo had gotten used to the fact that he wasn't quite welcome as much as he was a tolerated necessity. He'd been named young, for starters. Males did not usually receive names until they'd earned them as a man. Wil, on the other hand, had been handed a name as soon as it was apparent that he would never become a man; would instead be more of a hunting dog that resembled a very skinny troll, to be fed on scraps and bullied as necessary.

I'wilo was startled from his reverie as a shadow passed before his closed eyelids. He'd been near-dozing, caught between the satisfaction of a fruitful hunt and the nagging irritation at the cruelty of being trapped in such a pathetic excuse for a troll form. Rabbit, indeed.

Shielding his eyes and blinking against the sun, he turned his head just in time to glimpse her as she flowed gracefully up the stairs. Not for the first time, he told himself that if she would only take interest in him, would only say his name once; it would be worth all of the bullshit that had made up his pathetic, lowly existence. Then he told himself it would never happen, but the idea had lifted his spirits, as bitter as the reality may be.

Though he'd seen her only briefly, he'd stolen looks at her many times over the years. Her image was burned into his memory and he need only think of her and her visage was conjured in his mind, flawless, and with little effort. She had skin the same pale green tone as his, though hers held far more interest for the young male. Her face was long and leonine; her red eyes almond-shaped and large. She was as narrow as he at the waist, which was completely normal for a _female_. Her hips flared out broad and curvy, her breasts high and very, very round. Her arms and legs were long, lean and muscular. She had legs so long, so painfully, sexily long and agile as she flowed about on them with the liquid grace of a panther…

He felt himself stirring at the thought of those legs; the way she moved that drew the eyes of all males, I'wilo helplessly and hopelessly included. I'wilo was younger than her, by a good three years, which wouldn't matter but for the fact that he'd had time to witness her with more than one male. Not that he'd actually watched the act, but the way they would raise their chin and proud tusks over her head, possessively, as he kept his gaze averted with a heavy heart. The way they snarled at any other male they caught looking – I'wilo hadn't been stupid enough to get caught – It was dreadfully obvious that she wasn't stingy with her affections, at least when it came to REAL men.

I'wilo sat against the wall, his leg crossed; hands palm-up in his lap as he stared down at them but saw only her. His manhood had risen beneath the backs of his hands but he felt no compulsion to run off and relieve the urge, and so ignored it.

I'wilo loved her the way only young, obsessed, and hormonal male could, when it came to a pretty girl about whom he knew nothing – with a vicious passion. He would never stand with his tusks lifted possessively over her shining indigo mane. She would never look at him that way.

Another shadow crossed the bright sunlight that assailed his eyes as it bounced off of his open hands; this time moving in the opposite direction before it stopped directly before him.

I'wilo looked up.

The one he sought desperately with his heart and loins, though he never dared approach her physically, stood before him. She was glorious, her green skin and dark blue hair backlit by the sun, glowingly outlined. She stood closer to him than she ever had, outside of his own feverishly lustful dreams. She was looking at him!

Her full lips parted as she placed a hand on one dangerously curvaceous hip and bowed forward at the waist to meet the younger male's startled gaze. Her tone was self-assured and brutally feminine as she simply stated, "Hello I'wilo."

I'wilo tried to smile, but he was sure that in his nervous and disbelieving state, it looked more like a grimace. She admonished him playfully, "Aren't ya gonna say hello?" I'wilo swallowed, nodded dumbly and finally opened his mouth, which felt quite dry, "Hello –"

He had forgotten her name. He had forgotten the name that was never far from his mind. It was the one he had mouthed on many a lonely night when he had only his hand for company, but her image to warm him. Understanding and soul-wrenching dismay crossed I'wilo's features.

"Ah've fahgottan ya nehm," he stared down at his hands, his uselessly inept hands and numbness set in, "It's onleh da dream ahgain, see? Ah don't remembah ya nehm, lahvleh guhl dat nevah looked aht me." And to lend more weight to the fact, he spoke orcish, a language he'd never heard when he was still in Zul'Drak. The language he now preferred, for more than one good reason. "Oh," he mused. "Ah'm still ahfraid." His voice was soft and had a childlike quality, despite its depth.

Dreading what he knew he confront, knowing he would be shocked and frightened, but helpless to change the past or the dream, I'wilo slowly raised his eyes to meet hers again. His face was blank, full lips parted just enough to make a whistling noise as he breathed in and out, a plume of freezing vapor escaping with each shallow exhale. She was as he remembered her, but not as he wanted to. His heart clenched painfully at the knowledge that over time this was the state in which he most often imagined her, though he fought it with all of his being.

When he looked up, he was no longer at the temple stairs and it was no longer warm. It was freezing and he was calf-deep in snow. The sun had abandoned the horrid scene and left it to the moon's full glow, which rendered the snow blue and lent a ghostly quality to the nightmare he beheld. The dream began to edge closer to the reality that had stoked it and kept it alive over the months since the actual event.

The buildings that loomed in the background had been razed. Many of them appeared as dead insect husks, eroded by the breeze. Others were crushed as if a giant foot had stomped them. There were spots where the ground itself was partially decimated and covered in barely recognizable rubble. The majestic temples appeared as crumbs in the distance. A sense of wrongness pervaded the land. These were structures built for and strengthened by the gods, their gods. They were indestructible. They were eternal. And yet here was proof that even the massive stone shrines and the faith they represented were not only susceptible to time, but to the instant whim of something too large to be contemplated.

His hands opened and closed at his sides. His breath came in quick gasps, with long pauses in between. He would breath, stop… Breathe, stop… His heart was breaking, should literally have withered in his chest, but it beat on, loudly. It was like the drums that used to signify life, survival, and a proud race. But now it beat alone. He was so alone.

Her eyes were too pale, too wide. They were blank. Her once pretty face was stretched in a soundless cry that showed most of her teeth, the dainty brow furrowed in a final look of indignation. She looked ready to fight. He hoped she had given them a fight. Her facial expression was different each time he dreamt.

Where her long, perfect neck should have begun, a wooden pike was in its stead, four feet of splintered wood plunged through the snow and deep into the earth. Her hair was matted down with blood, the ends dangling limp behind the ragged stump of her neck. There was a line of them. I'wilo let his eyes wander to the left, returning to her horrid expression and pausing before he looked to the right. She was part of a row of heads, stretching far in either direction. Some were frozen in expressions of shock, but most of them looked vicious, angry. They had fought to the last, he knew. His people (for all that they did not accept him, they were still his people) were not meek. They were proud, strong fighters. He felt something akin to pride as he let his gaze wander slowly back to the head before him… To the female whose name he had forgotten in that moment, both in dreams and in memory, though in reality it had come back to him and he would never dare utter it. In the waking world he had cultivated a superstitious belief that saying it would teleport him back to this dread moment forever.

His eyes followed her as her head rose higher in his vision, for he had sunk slowly to his knees. He looked at the other heads again as he opened his mouth to beg quietly, his voice weak and pleading, "Please don't." He didn't know who he asked, his Loa, his gods, himself or his people, but his plea went unanswered. His hands had ripped open his ragged leather shirt at some point, and now they tore at the flesh of his chest, raking the skin open so that his blood fell and in the dark it joined their blood, turning the snow brown, though he knew it was really red that he saw. Red on their faces, on the snow beneath their mangled heads, red-stained pikes set in red snow.

His mouth hung open now, his frosted breath coming in harsh gasps as he threw his arms wide, his head back and his mouth stretched hideously. The fragile gossamer-thin cocoon of shocked numbness shattered as a scream exploded from his throat. The cry was so long and so anguish-filled that it made him feel as though he were deflating as he let it pour upward and out; it seemingly stealing his energy but leaving behind all of the terror, the pain and the loneliness.

After the wind was gone from him, his mouth remained agape; his head back for several seconds, eyes staring at the moon that revealed everything with detached apathy. He wanted to be like the moon, the stars. He wanted to not care. He breathed deeply, in preparation for another wailing cry, because there was nothing else he could do, but he was stopped by a sound that turned his fear to a more immediate danger.

Drums; the drums that his heart sought to emulate as it crashed against his chest were beating in the distance. He recognized the voices of the still-living Drakkari people, his people, accompanying the drums' booming pulse. But they were no longer his people. While they were too far off for his long, sensitive ears to perceive distinct syllables, meaning, his gut clutched at itself in icy disquiet. Something in their tone ignited a response in I'wilo that was pure instinct, spurned any part of him that might have given an answering cry to the voices that approached, or sought out the other Drakkari. He was as certain as the heads before him were dead. If he did not flee, he would die, or worse.

Hands, slick with his own cooling blood, pressed into the snow as he used them to push himself to his feet. His legs shook from a combination of weakness and trepidation. His mutilated chest left brown spots in the blue snow, coating his pale green skin with runnels and trickles of his own precious life. The ones before him were dead, gone forever from this land and hopefully forgiven by the gods that those still-living Drakkari now sought to exploit. He was alive, and though he didn't have a single reason other than blind panic at the vague notion of what might be in store if he lingered, he chose to stay that way if he could.

I'wilo fled. As miles of snow and then earth and stone, dry grass, sandy shore and crushed shells, earth again, fell beneath and behind his feet, he stopped for nothing. He managed to outrun all rational thought, but never fear. Fear is what drove him to run for hours and then days and when he finally stopped he had been slowing for several hours. He didn't halt his legs, rather they ran down like a clockwork toy as one by one the muscles seized and refused to go any further. His progress had become slow, his breath a wheezing gasp deep in his chest. He fell to his knees, and his hands dropped to his sides, palms back and facing up as they bent at the wrist and their fronts came to rest against the ground. The soft fuzz that covered most of him prickled with sweat, the thin crest of longer fur that ran down half of his spine rising and falling several times in alarm. His mind cried out for him to continue his flight.

With a low groan, he pitched forward. The ridge of fur on his spine lifted once more and then flattened against the sweaty, dirty skin…

And then he was back at the place he'd run from, confronted once again with a row of severed heads that stretched in either direction. It was the way of dreams, the mind worrying at the most sore spot, turning it over and over, trying to find a chink, pry it apart and rearrange the wrongness of it, solve the unsolvable puzzle of cruelly unfair fact. He dropped to his knees, tore at his shirt and then his chest and threw his head back…

Don't scream. He thought it before he said it, quietly. "Don't scream" But why?

Because she'll hear you, he thought.

I'wilo lowered his tusks that pointed at the sky and looked at her severed head before him. She didn't look like she cared. Still, the continuity of the memory-nightmare had been interrupted. He didn't scream. His breath still came in gasps, his chest still bled onto the ground and his entire body trembled. I'wilo did not scream.

I'wilo felt a near-crushing weight on his chest. He closed his eyes.

The first thing he became aware of was the sun on his face. He kept his eyes closed and studied the reddish light behind his eyelids as he tried to get his bearings. Gradually, his body followed him from that awful place. The snow that enveloped his feet faded and was replaced with what felt like grass, soft beneath and between his toes. He was warm, the heat just at the limit of what he considered comfortable, but not enough to make him break out in a sweat.

Nagging at his mind, but being drawn away, pushed by the warmth and the light, the soft grass, the dream withdrew itself or rather I'wilo found himself able to withdraw from the dream. The weight was still there, on the right side of his chest, and his belly, but it had ceased to be unbearably heavy.

What- ? He remained quite still, his ears straining toward the birds' song he only just registered, though it was quite prominent and came from all directions. Suddenly it came to him, the lusty feeling that had brought him to Silvermoon city, the wine and conversation with the blood elf girl… The weight on top of him suddenly felt heavy again, at the thought of the blood elf. I'wilo sniffed and cleared his throat quietly.

Steeling himself, he slowly opened his eyes. He lifted his left hand - for his right arm was beneath and around someone that he did not wish to wake - to shield them from the sunlight as bent his neck forward, tucking his chin and causing his throat to wrinkle up.

Kaylanna slept still, her breath slow in slumber, the exhales marked by dainty little squeaks that must have been snores. Her small, pretty face was turned up toward his and he felt an irrational fear that she was only pretending and that her eyes would snap open to lock with his. He stared at her closed eyelids for several minutes before letting his gaze take in the rest. She lay on his right arm, which encircled her protectively. Her own right arm was draped across his chest. The weight he had felt on his stomach was her right knee, which she had bent up and thrown across him at some point.

He'd left a bloody, horrific dream for a more subtle, very real and immediate problem. This was not good. I'wilo rolled his eyes and let the back of his skull sink into the grass again.

Suppressing the urge to let out a great sigh, perhaps pursing his full lips to make a wet farting noise – He'd heard that called a raspberry but it sounded like a fart to him, a gross one – I'wilo closed his eyes and tried to will himself to fall asleep, maybe die so that she'd wake up, be shocked and then go the hell home. When that didn't work, he opened his eyes again and looked down at her. She lay still and dreaming; by the looks of it her dreams much kinder than his. He was glad for her, for the apparently gentle dreams, NOT for her presence.

Carefully, mouth pressed into a thin line between his tusks, brow furrowed in concentration, he reached out with his left hand and gently lifted her arm, giving it back to her so that it lay along her side. After the initial heart-stopping alarm, he could have cried with relief when she shifted and drew in her right leg to rest atop her left. The "meep… meep" sound of her cute snores stopped and she sighed quietly. I'wilo froze.

One pink elekk, two pink elekk, three pink elekk… I'wilo got to two hundred before he felt safe enough to move again. He lifted his right hand from her tiny waist and let the back of his long arm rest against the grass, pausing again before he began to draw said arm from beneath her.

Kaylanna's right hand; tiny enough to fit in his mouth and have room for a half dozen more, came up to rest across her eyes. She yawned and flexed the hand, squeezing at her closed lids several times before letting it fall atop his chest. This was not good.

Glowing green eyes opened and regarded his quietly. This was not good.

Her eyes narrowed and her lips pressed together in an uncertain frown, her pointy little ears twitching. I'wilo quickly realized what she was frowning at; he'd been disarming a massive bomb, after all. And he knew jack shit about bombs.

He was frowning at her. Was he upset to find her still there? Was he angry she'd gotten drunk and passed out? The look quickly passed, the hairless brow which had been knitted in concentration lifting as the mouth between the tusks quickly morphed into the friendly smile that it so easily wore. "Moahnin'," the deep voice that made his chest vibrate beneath her fingers. He was smiling. That was good. She smiled back, beginning to feel very shy again.

She was smiling back at him. This was… acceptable. The rest of the situation… not good. She responded with a grin that might have stoked his loins, under different circumstances. "Morning," she replied, her voice husky from sleep.

I'wilo's smile began to feel less forced as he saw it register that she was laying atop a complete stranger, and that the stranger was a big green troll. She withdrew her hand and sat up, quickly fixing her hair as women are wont to do when they see a man looking at them. His smile broadened. Her cloaks, which I'wilo had thoughtfully draped over her passed-out form the previous night, lie pooled on the ground. She busied herself by picking it up and shaking it out, a bit more than necessary, giving him nervous glances every so often.

I'wilo felt in control again. He lifted himself on his elbows and tilted his head as he grinned up at the lovely little elf. His tongue ran along the inside of his cheek and he scratched his jaw lightly with one finger as he watched her.

Life sometimes handed you shit situations. You just had to make it good.

End of chapter. Hope you enjoyed it. PLEASE leave your comments! I'd love to know what people think so far. I had a bit of a struggle with the dream sequence. I felt it was too long, but I didn't know what parts to cut out. In the end, I ended up cutting out little bits here and there but I think it's still long and I hope you didn't find it too tedious.

I don't own WoW or sleep with Blizzard, yadda yadda yadda. My characters are important to me, so please don't make them your own! Oh, and the Kaylanna character is just someone I yanked out of my ass as I was writing this. "Kay" sounds easygoing to me and I've always thought names like "Yvanna" are the secks. Given the volume of the Moon Guard server, I'd not be shocked to find out that there is a character by that name, and several others with different spellings. And I figure if there is one or twenty Kaylannas, there's a good chance that they might be belfs, given that everyone except me has twenty of those. So, sorry Kaylanna and uh… I like your name! n_n

Chapter three will be forthcoming when I get to it. I'm also working on a few other stories and I have no clue what order they'll be done in because I tend to bounce back and forth from one story to another every half-hour. Keep gaming!

~I'wilo


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